


Inktober/Fictober - Hogwarts Mystery Prompts

by Ethren



Category: Harry Potter: Hogwarts Mystery (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, M/M, More tags to be added
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-03
Updated: 2019-10-07
Packaged: 2020-11-22 10:51:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20872988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ethren/pseuds/Ethren
Summary: Hello! I'm doing a joint fic/inktober with Angrynar on tumblr. She's doing the art, I'm doing the writing. It's going to mostly revolve around my MC, Ethren and Nar's MC, Skylar. Some people requested for it to be put on a platform for people who don't have a tumblr so here it is! I hope you guys enjoy x3You can find my tumblr at: http://hogwartsmysterystory.tumblr.comYou can find Angrynar's tumblr at: https://angrynar.tumblr.com





	1. Day 1: Courage

_ “Skylar....Skylar...you have to get up!” _

Ethren. His voice.... It was like he was a hundred miles away. Or above the surface, and here he was....drowning. Drifting down, down and into darkness. 

Skylar’s head felt like it was threatening to split in two, black blotches clouding his vision as he felt Ethren’s arms rope under him, dragging him through the snapping twigs and crackling leaves of the forest. “Skylar,  _ please, _ ” his friend begged. “I can’t carry you, so  _ move your ass!” _

A nearby tree exploded in a burst of bright red light as a spell struck it. Skylar heard the man curse, and Ethren dropped him for a moment as he drew his wand, a spell shooting from the tip and striking a death eater, sending him to the ground. 

Skylar opened his eyes wearily. His head was against the ground, gaze half lidded. His vision was blurry. He could see Ethren, a silhouette against the dark forest as he defended Skylar against their pursuers. What... happened. Everything was so foggy.. Hard to concentrate... 

He remembered the two of them, on a mission for the Order. To sneak into a Death Eater base, and retrieve an artifact. And as soon as Skylar touched it.... He was dragged entirely into this world. Thrust into his nightmarish realm of twisting shadows and dark beasts that hunted him from his peripherals. Then pain. So much pain that it consumed him, dropping him to his knees and forcing Ethren to carry him out. 

They ran. Ran until Skylar’s legs couldn’t carry him and collapsed. 

“Ethren,” he hissed. Ethren spun around to face him. Blood soaked his face, teal eyes wild and panicked as he immediately dropped down to his side.

“Skylar?” 

Skylar’s hand shot out, twisting into Ethren’s collar as he dragged the man close. His lips were chapped and bloodless, speckled eyes bloodshot with bloated bags beneath them. “ _ Go,” _ he snarled. “They’ll catch up to you.”

Ethren wrenched back like he’d been slapped. “Like hell I’m leaving you behind.” He looked over his shoulder. They were in the clear, for now. “Good thing you’re not a fatass, otherwise this would be  _ real _ difficult,” he muttered - and in one swift motion, Skylar was lifted up off the ground. Ethren threw his arms around his shoulders, stumbled a step as he grounded himself - and began to move forward, Skylar across his back. 

“Well look at that,” Skylar muttered tiredly, chin atop Ethren’s shoulder. “Looks like you’re not as much of a twig as you look.”

“Yeah, well you’re a lot heavier than  _ you _ look. Lay off the ice cream, would ya?”

“Mint chocolate chip....cookie dough..” Skylar’s voice was delirious, eyes sliding shut and Ethren grimaced, repositioning his hold on the other. 

“Don’t worry,” Ethren whispered, voice low. “I’ll get us both out of here...”

They lost the portkey. Somewhere, upon teleporting into the area, completing their mission and barely escaping with their lives, the little bent up corkscrew that they’d used to warp in had completely disappeared beneath the autumn leaves. Ethren cursed, lowering Skylar down against a tree as he began to march around kicking up leaves. “Damn it... _ damn it,” _ he snarled. “Where the hell is it?!” 

Ethren began pawing around, using his boot to push aside dried up leaves and twigs as his eyes scanned the forest floor furiously. Skylar’s back was pressed uncomfortably against the tree and as a cold began to settle around them, the man shivered, drawing his cloak closer around him. “Ethren-”

“If you tell me to leave you behind one more time, I’m actually going to hex you, Morningstar. Where did we leave that portkey?”

“Ethren-”

“It should have been right around here, I know we left it right by the twisted stump and the-.”

“Ethren!”

Ethren spun around. Skylar pointed towards a nearby puddle.... A puddle that was to rapidly icing over as a murky mist blew in from the shadows of the forest. It came with a cold that dragged up their spine like the blade of a knife. The blood drained from Ethren’s face. He staggered backwards towards Skylar and drew his wand. “Oh hell.”

Ethren peered into the inky darkness. The branches of the trees reached and swayed like elongated, skeletal fingers. And for a long moment... there was nothing. Until a black cloak passed between them, fading from one shadow to the next. Ethren’s fingers trembled around his wand as he spun around on Skylar. “Time to go,” he muttered, about to grab the man - when he saw another behind them. And another...and another. 

Ethren’s body went cold with dread and sealed his throat. They were... everywhere. The cloaked figures drifted across the forest floor, leaving trails of frost behind them. The air constricted around them. So cold he could barely breathe as he stumbled back towards Skylar. “No... stay away!”

A red spell blasted from the tip of his wand, shooting towards one of the dementors - and phased right through his ragged black cloak. 

A patronus. He had to cast a patronus. 

He’s never been able to before. He couldn’t... he  _ couldn’t.  _

“Skylar, we have to-” He whipped around. Skylar was unconscious, slumped against the tree. “Damn it, Skylar!” He dropped down on one knee beside him, shaking his shoulder furiously. “Get up, we have to go!” He didn’t stir. His head rolled, flopping to the side and Ethren grit his teeth, pushing to his feet as he spun on his heel. 

The dementors were drifting down and Ethren stood frozen with a nameless dread. He couldn’t... he couldn’t...

He couldn’t let them die. 

Skylar could barely think. Couldn’t see. His head pulsed with an angry vertigo that ripped through his skull. And he was cold... so cold. Why was it so cold... his eyes slid open. He was slumped against the tree. His wand had fallen from his fingers, and lay beside him. And Ethren... Ethren stood in front of him. 

Before a host of dementors. Terror swelled in Skylar’s chest. His fingers reached for his wand, but it was too far from his grasp. He could only watch as the dementors descended upon Ethren. Could only listen as he heard Ethren’s voice, swimming amongst the hazy murk in his head. “Get away from him - get away -  _ get away!” _

Ethren threw his hand out in front of Skylar, the other lifting his wand, straight at the dementors. And there it was...a pinpoint of silver light, blooming in the dark. 

It pulsated, bursting again and again in radiant ripples that swept across the forest. Skylar could see the dementors shying away from the glow, retreating back into darkness before inching forward again. 

Until the thestral came. 

A creature painted from the resplendent silver light, wings burst out from its back as it charged through the night towards the dementors. They scattered. Wisps of dark cloaks that caught the breeze as they sailed away, screeching, shooting off into the night.

Silence. Silence save for the sound of wind pushing through the trees. Ethren staggered, wand nearly clattering from his fingers. His legs trembled. Slowly, he stumbled over to Skylar before collapsing against him, a breath dragging from his lungs. “Looks like you can conjure one after all,” Skylar murmured. 

“About time, right.” Exhaustion dripped from Ethren’s words as he roped an arm around Skylar, drawing him up to his feet. “Come on... let’s go home.”

  
  
  
  



	2. Day 2: Ambition

Skylar’s arms were overflowing with potions supplies as he picked his way through the dungeons. Dittany and bezoar, asphodel and goosegrass, bitter root and horseradish. He stumbled a bit, hissing as he quickly readjusted his grip on it all. Damn. Why couldn’t Professor Snape just get his shit from the storage cabinet himself? At least he got something out of it. There’s perks to being on a Potion Master’s good side, especially when it came to getting your hands on rare and prohibited ingredients.

Snape had promised to teach him how to brew a potion that could keep him from dreaming....he doubted it would work, considering these weren’t any ordinary dreams but he was willing to try anything for a decent night’s sleep.

He was several paces away from the door leading inside the Potions room - when there was a great  _ boom!  _ from inside, and a puff of smoke that rolled out into the hall, followed by cussing and cursing. That voice...  _ Penny?! _

Skylar nearly dropped his things as he shouldered through the door - and there she was. Sitting alone at one of the tables pressed up against the window, surrounded by supplies and ingredients and cauldrons. Her hair was frizzy, black tar blasted across her fair features and she used her scarf to rub it away. 

Professor Snape was nowhere in sight.

“P-Penny?” Skylar stuttered, stepping into the room. He did a cursory look around her supplies. No, she definitely wasn’t working on anything for class. “What are you doing?” He grimaced. “You’re not making any pepperup potions again, are you?” 

“What? Oh, Skylar!” Even with her face mussed up and hair falling out of her braids, she still beamed brightly at him, motioning him over. “Come here! Wait, what are those?”

He glanced down to the supplies in his arms. “Some things for Snippy. Where is he, anyways?” Skylar muttered, placing them down on the man’s desk while Penny giggled.

“He’s out.”

“And he let you stay in his classroom?” Skylar’s brow arched, impressed and Penny gave a nod.

“That’s right! Know why?”

Skylar sat down, kicking his feet up as he stretched out. “Tell me.”

Penny leaned forward. Bright blue eyes were practically glittering with excitement. “Because I’m entering the Wizarding Schools Potions Championship!”

“Wizarding...” Skylar blinked, straightening out. “I didn’t even know there  _ was  _ a Potions Championship.”

She nodded eagerly. “There is! And this is the first year I’m entering. It's held in an enchanted garden from all sorts of wizarding schools, and  _ I _ was the one chosen to represent Hogwarts!”

He couldn’t help but feel excited for her. Her elation, her enthusiasm. It made a smile crawl across his features as he grinned. “That’s brilliant, Penny!” He said. “Better not let us down.”

“You _ know  _ I won’t. And guess what! If you win, you get the  _ Golden Cauldron!” _

“Yeah? Is it magic?”

Penny paused for a moment. “....you know, I’m not sure,” she admitted with a giggle. “I don’t think so, I’m fairly certain it’s just a regular old cauldron. But they say that only a  _ real  _ potions master uses a gold cauldron, and that it brews the best potions.”

“Then you’ve gotta win it, no matter what.” His tone was blunt, matter-of-fact. As if no other outcome was optional. “Lemme take out your opponents. They won’t know what hit ‘em-” He was cut off as Penny laughed, pushing her hand against his face.

“No. No sabotaging the enemy, Skylar. Though, I am pretty nervous... the Mahoutokoro is fairly skilled with potions. As is Koldovstoretz. And the students representing them are  _ amazing. _ ”

Skylar shrugged his shoulder. “Yeah. But they’re not you.” He plucked up a griffin claw, twirling them between his pale fingers. “You’ve been practicing this craft religiously ever since we met. Even through the Cursed Vaults. Even through your sister being trapped. You never faltered.” He leaned forward, giving a wolfish grin. “You’re going to kick their arse, Penny.”

Red blossomed on her cheeks. She brushed a strand of blonde hair behind her ear. “You think so..?”

“I  _ know  _ so.” Sharp eyes scoured her ingredients. “What are you making right now, a polyjuice potion?”

Penny nodded. “It’s one of the elixirs we have to brew for the competition.”

“All right. Well I’m going to help you.” He plucked up a nearby book, flipping over until he reached the right page. “We’re going to study the shit out of these until you know them like the back of your hand.” He puts out his own. “Deal?”

Ambition burned in Penny’s eyes as she clasped his hand, their fingers twining. “Deal.”

Hours. They studied for hours, long after Professor Snape returned to the room and promptly kicked them out. They simply migrated into a hallway, their supplies pooling around them, faces torched and fingers sticky from brewing so many potions. “Can you hand me the ashwinder egg?” Penny asked, not taking her eyes off the book as she ground some powdered rue into the concoction. 

“Sure thing.” Skylar took a break from brewing, swiping the back of his hand across his forehead as he reached over, grabbing a couple of the delicate eggs and passed them over. Skylar did his best to help her without doing anything  _ for  _ her. If she needed an extra hand in stirring, he was there. If she needed an ingredient, he jumped to it. And all the while, Penny remained completely and totally focused, her eyes flicking only from the book to the ingredients to the cauldron as they worked. 

They were nearly finished. In a matter of six hours, they’d brewed Polyjuice Potion, Amortentia, Draught of Living Death - and the last one. Felix Felices. 

“All right,” Penny breathed, drawing her head away. “We’re almost done...”

Skylar’s eyes searched her for a moment, the edge of his lip quirking up. “You know, you won’t be able to win anything if you work yourself to death,” he purrs. 

“Don’t worry, there’s just two more steps before it’s finished.” She sounded tired. She used her sleeve to rub at the tired bags under her eyes and outside, the sun had fallen and stars had bloomed over the sky. “...thanks for helping me, Skylar.”

Skylar snorted. “Hey, it’s no problem. A lot better than sleeping, let me tell you.”

“Have you...have you figured out how to stop your..nightmares?”

All at once, a bit of light faded from Skylar’s eyes. The smile remained, an everlasting veil over his utter exhaustion as he stretched, leaning back against the wall. “Nah. But it’s fine... I’m used to it. I was hoping Snape would help me with a potion that could keep the dreams away but..”

“Well...if you ever need help staying awake if you don’t want to sleep...I’m always open for some more midnight brewing,” Penny soothed. “And now... the final step.”

She drew her light-hued holly wand, hovering it over the cauldron in a figure of eight motion. _ “Felixempra!” _

The concoction that once resembled a magenta oozed quivered beneath the tip of her wand. All it once - it began to change, from a reddish violet into the colour of molten gold. Tiny droplets leapt out from the surface like flying fish, splashing about eagerly in the cauldron. Penny sagged with relief. “I think... I think it’s perfect.”

“And so those are the only potions you have to brew?” Skylar asked, hovering over to inspect their work. “Amortentia, Draught of Living Death, Polyjuice and Felix Felices?”

She shook her head. “No. There’s one more... it’s called the Potion of All Potential..an elixir that the Championship invented. But I won’t know how to brew it until I’m there.” She hesitated a moment... then threw her arms around his neck, nearly knocking them both to the ground. “Thank you so much, Skylar. It... it really helped. I was so nervous...”

Skylar was stiff for a moment, back against the stone wall as Penny hugged him. Hugs. He wasn’t used to hugs. Slowly, his hand curved around until he was hugging her back, albeit a bit awkwardly. “You don’t have to thank me,” he murmured, voice soft, warm. “Just win for me, yeah? You’re one of the most ambitious witches I know. So try your best.”

“You know I will.” She pecked his cheek before gathering her supplies, waving her books into her book bag with a flick of her wand. “I’ll tell you how it goes tomorrow!” She gave him one last bright smile before taking off down the hall. 

She was going to win this competition. Even if she had to practice until morning.


	3. Day 3: Loyalty

All eyes were on Ethren Whitecross and Skylar Morningstar that day during the dueling club. Having taken a break from classes, they both ripped through the dueling roster one by one. It was the final duel of the day - and Ethren Whitecross stood across from Diego Caplan, both of them focused, attentive and wand in hand. 

“We have now come to the final duel of the day,” McGonagall announced. “This duel will decide whose name rises to the top of the Leaderboard.” He gestured towards the board, where two pieces of chalk hovered in midair. There was tension in the room. Thick and heavy enough to cut through it with a knife. Diego Caplan had been training all year for this. Practiced all day, went through nearly ten students to reach Ethren. Their faces were bruised and torched with ash from previous fights. 

“Good luck,” Ethren panted. 

Diego said nothing. His eyes narrowed as he got into stance. 

“Duelists,” Professor McGonagall said. “Begin with a bow.”

Ethren’s back was stiff by now from all this bending over. He dipped his head down into a bow and across from him, Diego did the same. 

Skylar stood off to the side, behind the crowd and arms folded over his chest. But his eyes weren’t on his friend. They were latched onto Diego. He’d been... so competitive today. Perhaps even a bit over aggressive in his dueling, and desperation to come out on top. He fingered the skull on the end of his wand. 

If he tried anything... he was going to regret it. 

“Duelists! Begin!” 

As soon as she gave the word - spells exploded simultaneously from their wands. 

_ “Expelliarmus!” _

_ “Protego!” _

The red bolt of magic ricochet’d off the conjured, silvery shield, racing towards a crowd of people who squealed and dove to the side as it struck the wall. As soon as the red sparks dispersed, the two were moving on their feet, Diego sliding to the side, thrusting his wand forward.  _ “Aguamenti!” _

A stream of water blasted forth, shooting towards Ethren. It raced into his mouth, up his nose and with a  _ slam!  _ his back was on the floor, head spinning. He could hear the next spell. Could hear it like his head was underwater, and instinct carried him as he rolled to the side, Diego’s blasting curse scorching the tiled floor where he’d only just been.

Panting, Ethren came up on one knee, wand gripped tight in hand. Water dripped down his face in rivulets, hair soaked and grip on his wand slippering as he lashed it through the air. “ _ Diffindo!” _

The knives of white light raced forward - and sliced into the wall where the Hufflepuff had only just been. Damn it. Diego was fast. He duck and wove between Ethren’s spells, feet moving beneath him like a dance. 

All right. If he wanted to dance... Ethren would make him fucking dance.

_ “Aguamenti!”  _ Ethren shouted. Not at Diego himself - but at the floor. Diego’s eyes widened with shock as water spilled across the floor beneath him, making his feet slip and he threw out his arms, windmilling them to keep balanced. And with him stuck in one spot - Ethren grit his teeth, leveling his wand.  _ “Tarantallegra!” _

A purple jet of light struck Diego. He stumbled back a few steps, snarling and lifted his wand to cast when suddenly....

Laughter burst out of one of the students as Diego’s feet started to dance. They skated around the puddle like a tap dance, expensive boots splashing down into the water and sending up a spray across the bottom of his jeans. And in that moment of shock, Ethren pushed forward with his final spell. 

_ “Depulso!” _

Distracted by his untamed dancing, the spell slammed into his chest, sending him flying backwards, head cracking against the wall as he slumped to the ground, wet with his legs twitching in a jig. “Ethren Whitecross has taken first place in the leaderboard!” McGonagall announced, a flick of her wand and the chalk began to write on the board. “The next dueling session will take place after Christmas break. Everyone have a safe holiday.”

“Diego.” Ethren was barely paying attention. He splashed through the water, stepping over to the Hufflepuff as he put out his hand. “That was a good figh-”

His hand was smacked away. Diego didn’t meet his eyes as he pushed to his feet, straightening his jean jacket. “Right.” His voice was tense. Gruff. And without another word, swept out of the room, still soaking wet and shaking the remnants of Ethren’s jinx from his leg.

“Tsch. He doesn’t take losing well, does he?” Skylar was suddenly there, roping his arm around Ethren’s neck and the Gryffindor grimaced, watching Diego go. 

“Apparently not. You know how he is... he might be even more ambitious than Merula, even.” Skylar sketched a brow and Ethren snorted. “...okay, maybe not  _ more.  _ But they’re damn close.”

“Yeah, well look at you, up on top of the board. Does this mean you’re going to be waltzing around calling yourself the best dueler of Hogwarts now?” Skylar purred with a grin, arm still roped around Ethren’s shoulders as he lead him out of the dueling chambers. 

“I’m not the best. Pretty sure I just got lucky.”

“Or maybe  _ he  _ was just overconfident.”

Ethren paused a moment. “...I don’t know. It seems like ever since Cedric came to Hogwarts, he’s seemed really.... Desperate to prove himself.”

Skylar clicked his tongue with distaste. “I don't know why he’d get himself worked up over a first year.”

They made their way through the dungeons, letting the rest of the students rush ahead after congratulating Ethren on his win. It was nearly dinner time, and the halls were nearly emptied. And when they turned the corner - 

_ “Whitecross. _ ” 

Ethren and Sklar paused. 

Diego. He stood at the other end of the hall, arms folded over his chest as he regarded the two with a scowl. “Where you headed.”

“Dinner.” Ethren could feel his stomach clawing, utterly famished. 

“Yeah? Hungry? Well you can eat once we have a rematch. Draw your wand, Whitecross.”

Neither of them moved. Ethren and Skylar both stared at Diego, brows arching as the boy got into position, dogwood wand out and ready. “You’ve got to be shitting me,” Ethren said.

“No. Back there, in the dueling hall...” Diego grit his teeth. “I’m not waiting until after Christmas to kick your arse. If I let you go now, this will claw at me all break. And I’m not going to be spending all Christmas thinking about how I lost to  _ you. _ ”

Ethren snorted, moving forward now. Teal eyes flashed with fury for only a moment before they settled on Diego’s face. “Whether or not you want to obsess over me all break is on you, Caplan,” he said. “I’m sure as hell not going to be wasting a single sliver of my attention on you.”

“What, afraid you’ll lose?!” Diego challenged as Ethren swept by and Skylar, passing next to him snorted, eyes rolling over to him lazily.

“I think it takes a certain calibre of insecurity to be this worked up over a duel,” he sneered. “Worry about yourself, Diego.”

“We can duel after Christmas, all right?” Ethren said. 

He meant for it to be the finishing touch to the conflict. He lifted his hand in parting, the two retreating down the halls away from the Hufflepuff when Diego’s voice sounded one more time from behind them. 

“Fine. Give your mad mum a hello from me.”

Ethren’s stride screeched to a halt. He turned a bit back towards Diego, eyes narrowed to slits. “....what?”

The edge of Diego’s lip twitched upwards as he folded his arms. “I said, make sure to give your mad mum a hello from me. If she can get through a single conversation.”

The anger was hot as steam across Ethren’s cheeks. Cold fury seethed through his veins and he took one step forward - before Skylar grabbed his arm, wrenching him backwards. “He’s just trying to get a rise out of you,” his friend’s voice was low in his ear, eyes locked like slits of steel onto Diego.

“You know, I’m actually surprised you want to go back so bad,” Diego continued with a wave of his hand. “If my mum was bloody mental like yours was, I’d steer clear. Especially if she can’t even remember your face. Granted, I reckon most people would want to for-”

He didn’t get a single word out before Skylar was advancing forward, grabbing Skylar’s shoulder and slamming him backwards into the wall. There was a  _ slam  _ of his skull striking stone and Diego grit his teeth, bowing his head forward to rub at it tenderly, vision swimming.

When he looked up - Skylar’s face was inches from him - the tip of a wand beneath his chin, pressing to his jugular. 

“Skylar-” Ethren tried to intercept, and he was cut off with a silencing hiss from Skylar, whose eyes were locked furiously on Diego. 

“You know,” Skylar said. Ice dripped from his words, his wand pressing deeper into Diego’s neck. “I’m not like Ethren. Ethren is...good. He’d rather walk away, because that’s just the type of person he is. But me...” 

Magic flickered down the length of his obsidian and crimson woven wand. Diego could practically see the sockets of the skull’s eyes at the bottom flicker with pinpoints of red. “I’ve seen things that would make your skin crawl. And no amount of ego or skill will be able to save you if you ever speak to him like that again.” 

Diego swallowed, eyes locked on the wand at his throat. He clenched and unclenched his fists, a bead of sweat rolling down his face. And despite the weapon pressed to his jugular - there was defiance glinting in his golden gaze. Ethren had no idea what might have happened... and was almost relieved when Snape came around the corner, pausing at the scene unfolding before him.

“What is going on here.” His voice was low and cold. 

Ethren was swift to jump in. “Nothing, Professor,” he said. His hands tugged at Skylar’s arm, drawing him away from Diego. “Just a misunderstanding.”

“A misunderstanding,” Professor Snape repeated slowly. His eyes flickered over to Diego, whose face was beet red as he peeled himself off the wall, wincing as he massaged the concussion he nursed on the back of his head. 

“...yes, sir.”

Professor Snape said nothing for a long moment, eyeing the three students shrewdly. “Caplan. Morningstar. I will speak with your Heads of Houses tonight,” he drawls, then without another word - swept past and around the corner.

Diego gave Ethren and Skylar one more, nostrils flaring with distaste before he followed the Professor, boots echoing until there was silence.

Skylar was still rigid. He glowered after where Diego had disappeared, wand squeezed so tight in his hand his knuckles were white.

Ethren came to his side, fingers gently brushing over them to soothe the other. “...you didn’t have to do that.”

“What?” Skylar demanded, distracted as he stared at Ethren. “What are you talking about.”

“Putting your neck out for me like that. You and Diego will probably end up getting detention together.”

“Just gives me another opportunity to kick his arse.”

“I don’t want you to fight my battles for me.”

Skylar clicked his tongue, glancing over. His gaze... it was fond as his eyes searched Ethren’s face, a hand resting on his shoulder. “Like it or not, Whitecross,” he purrs. “I’ll always help you fight your battles. Come on...lt’s grab some grub. Scaring the piss out of puffed up Hufflepunks has left me ravenous.”


	4. Day 4: Creativity

On this warm, springtime day - nobody was in the castle. Students flooded the courtyard, shot through the skies on their broomsticks and lounged by the grassy shores of the Lake. And that’s exactly where Whitecross was headed, hands shoved into his pockets as he walked with a lazy stroll through the grounds. 

Everyone was outside enjoying the day. Charlie and Jae playing gobstones underneath a tree. Penny and Skye whispering near the water’s edge. Merula, Talbott and Chiara were talking in the grass a way’s back. He began to make his way over there - when someone caught his eye and he nearly tripped.

_ Skylar. _

Skylar was typically a person who avoided sunlight like a vampire. Spending most of his days inside, he typically only ventured out when it was a beautiful day - like today. He was sitting cross legged, salt and pepper hair falling over his eyes as he drew something on a piece of parchment.

Ethren glanced once towards his girlfriend - then made his way towards Skylar. He was completely focused, unaware of Ethren coming up at him as he sketched and the Gryffindor leaned curiously over his shoulder.

He was drawing a girl.

A girl Ethren had never seen before.

And the way he drew her was so.... Delicate. His brows were pushed together in concentration, eyes locked on the parchment as his quill carefully curved around her features. Soft, warm eyes. Short, dark hair. An aviator jacket hanging around her thin frame. 

“Who’s that?”

Skylar jolted, dropping his pen and flailed about for it before spinning around on Ethren, eyes wide as though he’d just been caught doing something nefarious. “I.... no one.” His voice was thick as he tried to slam his sketchbook closed. Ethren caught it at the last second, slowly opening it as he sat down next to the Ravenclaw.

“Damn,” Ethren murmured, impressed as his eyes drifted over the masterful sketches. “Skylar, I didn’t know you could draw.”

Skylar flushed. He gave a lazy shrug, as if it was no big deal as he drew his knees into his chest. “It’s just something I do when I’m thinking a lot.”

“So, all the sketches of that... thing you see at night in your dorm...”

“Consider them stress relievers.”

“And her?” Ethren pointed down at the girl.

For a moment, there was a flicker of grief in Skylar’s gaze. He reached down, shredding the paper from the sketchbook. “She’s the past,” he said simply as he folded it up and placed it in his pocket. 

Interest clawed at Ethren. But he knew better than to push his friend beyond his limits. So he gave a roll of his shoulder, plopping down next to Skylar and laid back against the grass. “All right, then,” he purred, turning his gaze towards the sky. “Keep your secrets.” Above, fluffy white clouds drifted over them and he heaved a sigh. “You know, I always wished I could draw. But I never really had the patience... and I always sucked.”

The edge of Skylar’s lip twisted up a bit. He turned over until he was on his side, eyeing Ethren coyly. “Ethren Whitecross, admitting he’s terrible at something?” He grinned. “The world must be ending.”

“Hey. I can be humble.”

“Come on.” Skylar poked at Ethren’s ribs and the boy twisted violently. “You can’t be  _ that  _ bad.”

“My work would make people go blind.”

“Come on, it can’t be that bad.” Skylar lifted up his journal and shoved it in Ethren’s face. “Come on, draw something!”

“You’re kidding.”

“Nope. You’re going to draw something, right now.” 

Ethren grimaced and leaned back with a sigh. “I can tell you’re not going to let this drop,” he muttered, swiping the notebook away as he twirled a pencil idly in his fingers. “I don’t even know what to draw.”

Skylar looked like he was enjoying himself _ too  _ much. His grin was absolutely wolfish as he reclined back against the grass, head down on the ground as he gazed up, folding one leg over the other. “Anything you want. A memory, something you want, something you like...”

_ Something he likes. _

First, his gaze drifted over to Merula. She and Chiara were playing a game of gobstones while Talbott read a book nearby. And then.... Then his gaze landed on Skylar’s face. He normally looked so... tense. So tired. Bags that drooped under his eyes, streaks of stressful grey striking through his hair, wound up like he’s ready to fight or take flight.

But here...here he looked so peaceful. There was the touch of a smile lingering at the edge of his lips, eyes closed as he just enjoyed the sun on his face and lighting up his freckled features. 

He looked damn beautiful.

“All right, then,” Ethren muttered, taking up a nearby pencil. A wave of his hand and it transformed into a blue crayon. “Time to draw.”

An hour. It took him... an hour. An hour of concentrating. An hour of focusing. An hour of biting his tongue and his lip as he worked away tirelessly, crayons flying over the parchment and finally - Ethren grimaced, leaning back to look over his work.

“I hate it.”

Skylar had nearly fallen asleep. Ethren’s voice had him giving a start as he twisted around. “What? What do you mean you hate it?”

“I mean I  _ hate  _ it. It’s terrible. It needs to be burned. Now.”

When Ethren reached for his wand - likely to burn it - Skylar grinned, leaping up to try and grab at it. “Come on, let me see!”

“Absolutely not.” Ethren’s up on his feet now, backing up. 

“You know, you can either show me yourself - or I’ll use accio on it. Either way, I’m seeing that doodle whether you like it or not.” 

Damn it. And Skylar doesn’t make idle threats. Ethren scowled. “....you’re not allowed to laugh.”

“No promises.”

A sigh pushed out from between Ethren’s lips... and he lifted the parchment. Skylar stared at it for a long while. His features were.... Utterly blank, devoid of emotion. Until there was a quiver of his lip. Then he was busting out  _ laughing,  _ doubling over as he rolled on the ground, tears springing to his eyes.

Ethren’s cheeks lit up on fire. He grit his teeth, immediately hiding it away. “It’s not  _ that funny.” _

“ _ HE HAS SIX FINGERS!” _ Skylar wheezed. His guffaws echoed out over the grounds, causing other students to search for the source, eyes landing on Ethren and Skylar - the former looking as though he'd like to disappear somewhere and quickly. 

“All right, asshole!” Ethren hissed. His face was blossoming with red. “I drew the most annoying dip I know. Happy?”

“Almost.”

And with a wave of his hand and a wordless spell - Ethren’s page was flying out of his hands and into Skylar’s. “ _ Skylar!” _ Ethren shouted, racing towards him, leaping at the page. “Don’t you  _ dare! Give me that back!” _

“Not a chance!” Skylar said with a laugh, tugging it out of Ethren’s reach, aided by his superior height. “Hey, I wonder what  _ Merula  _ would think of this.”

Ethren’s blood ran cold. “You wouldn’t  _ dare.” _

Skylar though was already on his feet, dancing out of the way as Ethren made another swipe for the page.  _ “Oi! Merula _ !” She twisted around from her spot on the grass. “Come here, I need to show you something!”

“ _ Skylar!”  _ Ethren lunged, narrowly missing as the paper was plucked only just out of his reach. “Come on, quit being an ass!”

“Oh no, please, whatever you’re doing, please continue,” Merula purred, seeming to be quite content watching Ethren as he jumped and leapt about for the parchment, folding her arms over her chest. “What even is that thing?”

“See for yourself,” Skylar said with a grin, lunging back as he showed her the picture. Ethren by now, having accepted his inevitable defeat, sank down to the ground with a pout as Merula took the picture in hand, a dark brow arching. 

“...wow,” she finally managed with a snort. “Ethren I didn’t know you were so..artistically talented.”

“Inept,” Skylar snickered, taking it back from her. “But you know what? It’s cute.” He glanced down to Ethren’s brooding form with a smirk. “I think I might even hang it up in the Ravenclaw common room.”

“I will actually make you shit cockroaches if you try _ ,”  _ Ethren threated with a hiss, tearing up from his spot on the ground to pounce at the paper. Skylar danced back. His eyes were lit up with amusement, teeth showing in a grin. 

“Well?  _ Come and get it, then!” _

Ethren met the challenge. And the two tore across the grounds towards the castle, curses and threats being slung into the springtime afternoon. 

  
  



	5. Day 5: Mystery (wip)

not yet finished


	6. Day 6: Cursed

A sky that was once a dome of plasma blue had changed into dark grey anvils hanging low and heavy over the grounds, pouring down a flood of rain that pounded against the boys dormitory window in a relentless torrent. Ethren lay on his back, teal eyes tilted towards the glass as he listened to the rest of the Gryffindors talking, busying themselves as lightning crashed outside. 

There was only one day left until summer. One day left, and then next year, they start their final year at Hogwarts. Excitement was practically buzzing in the air. 

“I can’t wait to get home,” Rowan said, playing Wizards Chess with Ben - and promptly beating him. “There’s so much I need to do....so much I need to prepare for. Studying for our N.E.W.Ts, practicing applications..”

“Practicing applications?” Ben snorted, playing with Ethren’s pup as he scratched the great big dog behind his fuzzy ears. “You plan on joining the Hogwarts staff immediately after graduating?”

Rowan’s eyes immediately lit up. “Of course! And if they don’t take me immediately, I’ll work at Flourish and Blotts! That way I can read,  _ and  _ I can already start helping students find what they need!”

“Yeah well speak for yourself,” Jae said with a roll of his eyes. He was laying back in his bed, twirling a coin between his fingers. “My folks have been on my arse trying to get me to come up with a career path. What if I don’t want one?”

The edge of Ethren’s lip curved upwards. He leaned over towards Jae, voice light and teasing. “Well, you already make a pretty good criminal.”

“Brilliant suggestion. I’ll tell my dear mum that I’ve decided to become a criminal, I’m sure she’ll love it.”

“I just... can’t believe it’s almost over.” Charlie. He’d been sitting in bed, knees drawn to his chest and looking out the window. When he turned, there was a slow smile drawing over his features. “....one more year. One more year and we can do... whatever we want.”

“Yeah? You hightailing it out to Romania as soon as you graduate?” Ethren asked, glancing over with a lazy smile. 

“You know it. I’m sick of this dump.”

The conversation turned to their careers. The kinds of dragons Charlie hoped he’d work with years in the future. Rowan, hoping that he’d be able to teach at Hogwarts until he was as old and grey as Dumbledore. Jae even coming up with the idea of opening up a pawn shop in Knockturn Alley. Ben, deciding that he wanted to have a family to love and protect.

Plans of the future. 

Slowly, Ethren felt the smile slipping from his features, a knot taking root in his stomach until it was a tangled heap where his heart should have been, sinking back against the bed. He fell quiet. The melting pot of voices turned into a dull static in his mind. 

_ Future. _

“Ethren!”

He jolted, glancing over. All four boys were watching him, smiling broadly. “What about you?” Jae asked, flicking Ethren over a bertie botts bean. “What do you plan on doing when you get out of here?”

He didn’t answer. Couldn’t answer. His voice was trapped in his throat, only able to stare like a deer in headlights at his friends. How could he say it..?  _ I have no future. _

Rowan’s smile wavered for a moment. Understanding flickered in his eyes and he cleared his throat. “Check mate!” He said with a grin, drawing Ben’s attention and the boy hissed, leaning forward. 

“What?! How! You cheated.”

“Or maybe he’s just better than you,” Jae purred, resulting in a pillow getting thrown at his head. A pillow fight erupted in the dorm room, fluffy artillery that flew over Ethren’s head and he shot Rowan a grateful look before flopping over in his bed, drawing the covers over his head. 

Ethren didn’t sleep last night. He couldn’t. 

He waited until everyone was asleep before he sat up, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. Ethren glanced over cautiously towards the others. They were asleep, Jae hanging half off the bed and Charlie’s snores vibrated the floorboards.

He was silent as he snatched his book bag and made his way down into the Common Room. 

There was a soreness in his throat and his lungs. A horrible, gut wrenching grief that he couldn’t shake, that made it hard to breathe.

He dropped a stack of books with a  _ thud  _ onto the table of the Common Room before he sprawled onto the couch. Flames flickered and danced in the fireplace, soft sounds cracking and snapping in harmony with the rain drilling against the windows. 

He couldn’t get it out of his head.

Jae’s question. 

_ What about you? _

.... there were lots of things he wanted to do. He wanted to study his archaeology and be a freelance curse breaker. He wanted to be the best man in Talbott and Chiara’s wedding. He wanted to travel the world with Skylar and Summer. He wanted to marry Merula and propose on some beach and spend the rest of his days with her.

But he’d never have that. A sharp breath clawed at his throat. Heat gathered in his chest. 

Four years. He had four years to figure this out... and he sure as hell wasn’t going to do it sitting here feeling sorry for himself. With a snarl, he wrenched up, grabbing a quill and dug around in his bag until he pulled out a large, thick volume.  _ Breaking Generational Curses: Overcoming the Legacy of Sin in your Family.  _ A muggle volume. But you can’t get much more similar than that. 

With a quill behind his ear and a stack of blank parchment nearby, he got to work. 

Ethren lost track of time as he always did when he puts his mind to something. Hours ticked by and he was surrounded by towers of books from every era, muggle or mage. Swiftly inscribed in his messy scrawl, his notes plagued the floor and the couch, crumbled up or ripped to shreds. 

There were great bags under his eyes. 

His hands were aching and covered in blotches of ink. But he couldn't stop.

He couldn’t ever stop. 

Hands sliced open from numerous papercuts tear through the last book in his pile. It was the fourth time he'd gone through  _ Advanced Defense Against the Dark Arts _ . He knew the volume like the back of his own hand. And yet every time he went through it, he’d hoped... maybe there was something he missed. Something that could help.

But there was nothing.

He stared at the final words. There was a tremble to his hands. A twisting in his chest. And with a snarl, he stood and hurled the book into the fire where the pages exploded in a bout of smoke and ash, going up in flames. His hand swiped over the table, books and notes and inkwells crashing to the floor as hands went up to twist and tear into his own hair, collapsing back into the couch.

He always tried. Tried so hard to keep back the seething avalanche of emotions that constantly pounded against the cage in his chest. Frustration. Grief. Hopelessness. But tonight... He couldn’t help it. 

A sob that pushed past his lips. Caramel hair fell into his eyes, arms drawing his knees into his chest. He grit his teeth until they ached, a torrent of tears pushing through the slits of his eyes and ripped down his cheeks. 

How much time had he wasted on this. How many hours, days, years has he spent fighting something that can’t be fought. You can’t battle a noose around your neck or a cancer in your body. All you can do... is wait. 

Wait for everything to be ripped away. Wait for all of those precious memories and fleeting hopes of a future to be burned to ash. 

He would never become a world famous curse breaker. Would never travel the world with his friends and his family. Would never be able to marry the girl he loves, and prove to her his devotion.

Terror and frustration were ropes around his neck. Strangling. Suffocating. His breath choked, he pressed his face into his knees. 

This curse demanded blood. And blood it shall receive.


End file.
